The Porch Swing
Gaze at the porch swing
A rustic old thing
I rest in the seat
Elevate my feet
I become sedate
All my troubles wait
Nothing else matters
Rain when it patters
Is like a sing song
Nothing can go wrong
Warm breeze on my face
Far from the rat race
A glass of red wine
With dinner, I dine
Life is attitude
For final prelude